Valencian paella, the real one, contains no seafood. It is a dish of the interior, cooked over an open fire of orange wood in a wide, shallow pan, with rice, chicken, rabbit, flat green beans, a large white bean called garrofó, tomato, saffron and olive oil, and in some places snails. The coast got involved later. A rider who is tempted by a plate of it on the road to Millares should look for a bar that cooks to order and takes forty minutes, since the quicker ones tend to rely on the freezer.
The Abrigo del Atajo I, two kilometres from Millares, lies in the hills of the Júcar, in country that is dry, rugged and quiet. Millares and Dos Aguas are small villages, and Bicorp is a short ride further. The road to Atajo is narrow and winding, with a good surface in places and a poor one in others, and the views over the pine woods are lovely. Be careful of gravel, wild boar and farm vehicles, and avoid the middle of the day in July and August.
Turís, with five thousand people and eighteen kilometres away, is the nearest town with fuel, and it is an agricultural centre of orange groves and vineyards. A little further, Montroy has a handful of shops. The villages near the shelter will have a bar, and some may serve food, but it is best to arrange meals in advance.
The shelter is small and part of a group of painted sites in this valley, and you should ask locally about access. Take water and wear good shoes.
There is a particular pleasure in this part of the Júcar country at the end of the day. The light comes in low and gold across the pines, the heat finally drains out of the stone, and from a bend in the road you can look down a long fold of hill to a village roof and a thread of smoke. Take your helmet off, listen to the engine tick as it cools, and let the cicadas finish their shift. When the sun goes behind the ridge, the temperature falls quickly, so put a layer on before you set off for the last stretch home.